


Not until you can walk across the bridge by yourself

by all_hail_the_witcher



Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: 2018, Canon Era, HERE WE ARE AGAIN, Hypothermia, M/M, Near Death Experiences, Near Drowning, Snow, Temporary Amnesia, Unnecessary Carrying, You guessed it - Freeform, albert is a concerned boyfriend, and is also posted on tumblr, but its a misunderstanding, checks is also there, cuddling for warmth, essentially its whump, falling off the brooklyn bridge, hurt comfort for all your touch starved needs, lots of snow, now what happens in this, one very very brief mention of suicide, polluting the ralbert tag, poorly written slurred speech, race and spot are friends, race is a stupid idiot, race is so stupid, shes my oc, since everyone on tumblr wants me to put like all of my writing on ao3, spot deserves a medal, this is not really historically accurate, this was written in, well well well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:42:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24012265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/all_hail_the_witcher/pseuds/all_hail_the_witcher
Summary: Manhattan is supposed to have a meeting with Brooklyn, but when Race (and Brooklyn) fails to show up Albert gets worried. He convinces Jack to send out a search party just as it begins to snow. They do not find Race, but for once Brooklyn does something useful.or Race falls off the Brooklyn Bridge accidentally and gets hypothermia in the middle of the winter.originally published on tumblr under the title Come Home Safe.
Relationships: Albert DaSilva/Racetrack Higgins
Comments: 1
Kudos: 39





	1. Chapter 1

Albert paced back and forth across the common room of the lodging house. Race should have been home from selling an hour ago. Normally, Albert wouldn’t be worried - Race could hold his own in most situations. But, Albert just had a feeling that something bad had happened. And it had just started snowing. 

“Jack, please,” Albert begged for the third time. “Let me go look for him. Or send someone out. He doesn’t have a good jacket and it’s starting to snow.”

Jack sighed. He had gathered all of the important Manhattan Newsies in the common room because Spot and some of his boys were supposed to be coming over to have a meeting about border disputes with Queens. Albert could see that Jack was torn. It was odd that Race hadn’t come back yet and they did need him for the meeting since he was second in command. But at the same time he couldn’t send out Mush or Specs to go look for him cause they were needed for the meeting and he couldn’t risk sending out the younger boys because they might get lost or freeze. 

“Alright,” Jack finally said. “Race is more important than any meeting with Brooklyn. Specs and JoJo you go west, Mush and Finch you go north, Davey and Blink go south and Al and I will go east. No one stay out for more than an hour, okay?”

Everyone nodded, grabbing their jackets and extra socks for their hands before splitting off in their designated directions. 

Albert and Jack searched as far as the bridge. Every second that they searched contributed to Albert’s general anxiety about Race. Where was he? Was he bleeding out in an alley? Was he freezing to death? Was he safely back at the lodge?

“Al, we gotta go back,” Jack said after they looked in the same alley for the third time. “We’ve looked everywhere and it’s getting late.”

“Jack, we have to keep going,” Albert begged. “He could be out there, I can’t leave him.”

“Let’s go back to the lodge and reconvene,” Jack said gently, placing his arm around Albert’s shoulders. “Maybe one of the other boys found him.”

Albert gave a weak nod and allowed himself to be steered toward the lodge.

•••

Race was not at the lodge, nor had any other the other boys found him. Albert pulled his knees into his chest as he watched the other boys talk about what they should do next. He wasn’t really listening to what anyone was saying though. His mind was whirring. Where could Race be? Why hadn’t he come home yet? Albert was going to kill him if he wasn’t already dead. 

It was around midnight when there was a knock at the lodging house door. Albert’s head snapped up. Race?

Jack opened the lodging house door to reveal, not Race, but Checks, Spot’s second in command. 

Jack narrowed his eyes. “Whatrya doin here, Checks? The meetin was supposed to be 2 hours ago. And it’s late and it’s snowing.”

Checks rolled her eyes, stepping inside and pulling off her cap, shaking the show out of her hair. “Spot says he’s sorry about the meeting, but I’m here on other terms.”

“Which might be…?” Jack raised his eyebrows. “What could possibly be so important at midnight for you to trek here all the way from Brooklyn in the snow?”

“If ya stopped runnin your trap for a minute I could tell you,” Checks said, rather annoyed. “Do we got an Albert Dasilva here?”

Albert sprung up from the couch. “Yeah.”

“I need ya to come with me,” she said simply, “back to Brooklyn.”

“An why is that, exactly?” Jack asked before Albert could respond. “Cause we’re dealing with a bit of a situation here right now and I don’t think Al is up for dealin with any Brooklyn business. Heck, he ain’t even one uh the leaders. An I’m not letting him make the trek to brooklyn at midnight in the snow.”

Checks rolled her eyes. “Lemme guess, this little ‘situation’ uh yours is about Race not comin back, right?”

Albert felt his fist tighten at his side. How dare she make light of Race not coming back? He could be dead or frozen somewhere. 

Jack beat him to it. “Listen, Checks, I don’t know how things work in Brooklyn, but here in Manhattan, we stick together. An how didja even know Race was missing?”

“Well first of all, he’s the only one that ain’t here right now,” Checks said, surveying the room. “An, Spot pulled him outta the east river 3 hours ago.”

Albert’s knees gave out from under him and he collapsed back on the couch, in too much shock to even cry. He knew something had happened. Why had Race even been in the East River? Was he okay? It was cold out and the water was even colder, not to mention the freaking snow. There was a good chance Race would die of cold exposure, if he wasn’t already dead. 

In the midst of his panic, Albert felt someone, probably Mush, put an arm around him and begin to whisper reassurances. Albert almost yanked away, but then he heard what Mush was saying. 

“Albert, hey, hey, it’s okay. Shhhhh. Listen to me. Checks just said Race isn’t dead. They’ve got him at the brooklyn lodging house. Spot got him there in time. They’re keeping him warm, but it's too early to tell. Spot wants you there tonight, just in case, okay?”

Albert looked up at Mush blankly.

“Race needs you,” Mush said gently. “You gotta go with Checks.”

“Okay,” Albert whispered, standing shakily and grabbing his jacket. 

“Here, Al,” Finch threw his spare jacket at him. “It’s cold out there and we don't need someone else freezing.”

“Thanks, Finch.” Albert pulled Finch’s jacket on on top of his own, pulled on his hat and put his extra socks over his hands.

“Oh, Spot said to bring Race any warmer clothes if he’s got em,” Checks spoke up. “The spares we got ain’t really that great.”

“I got it,” JoJo said, climbing up the stairs to Race’s bunk. He returned a few minutes later with a pape bag filled with Race’s extra clothes and handed it to Albert.

“I’ll be by in the morning to check on you guys,” Jack said, clapping Albert on the back. “Don't let him try anything stupid ya hear? He ain’t allowed back here until he can walk across the bridge by himself.”

Albert let out a weak chuckle. “Will do.” Then, he followed Checks out into the cold.

•••

By the time Albert and Checks reached the Brooklyn lodging house the snow was coming down thick and heavy. Albert was shivering despite his extra jacket and he kept having to blink away the snow that was collecting on his eyelashes.

Checks pulled open the door to the lodging house and ushered Albert inside quickly. Inside, the common room was empty except for a bed that someone had pulled near the fireplace. From where Albert was standing it looked like there were two people laying in the bed, one holding the other tightly. 

At the sound of the door opening one of the people got up from the bed, carefully tucking the blanket around the other before walking over to greet Albert and Checks. 

Albert was only half surprised to see Spot. He looked tired, disheveled even, and he was wearing a long sleeve shirt with a tear in the sleeve. 

“Good, you made it,” Spot sighed before turning to Checks. “You're in charge until further notice.”

Checks gave him a curt nod. “Make sure you get some sleep.”

Spot rolled his eyes and gave Checks a gentle push toward the stairs. “Go to bed, Checks, you gotta lotta stuff to do in the morning.”

Spot waited until Checks disappeared upstairs to turn to Albert. “I’m so glad you’re here,” he said, walking back toward the bed and motioning for Albert to follow. “I was gonna wait until morning to send someone to come grab you but I figured you lot would be worried. And it’s still kinda touch and go.”

Albert swallowed hard. “What happened exactly?”

“I don’t know,” Spot sighed. “I was heading to Hattan with Checks for the meeting with you lot when I see someone fall off the bridge. I didn’t even realize it was Race until I pulled him out uh the water.” Spot sat down on the edge of the bed., placing his hand on the person’s head who was laying in the bed. 

It took Albert half a second to realize that Race was the person who was laying next to Spot. He almost didn’t recognize him under all the blankets. Race’s skin was pale and some spots had splotchy red patches, his eyes were closed and his lips were slightly blueish. Spot had covered his head with a blue knit hat and the blankets were pulled up to his neck. It broke Albert’s heart to see him so weak and vulnerable.

“He jumped off the bridge?” Albert whispered uncertainly, not taking his eyes off Race. He couldn’t believe that Race would do something like that, Why hadn’t he talked to him?

Spots eyes went wide and he put a hand on Albert’s knee. “No, no, he didn't jump. He was looking at the view and someone bumped into him pretty hard and he lost his balance and fell over the edge. It’s a miracle the fall didn't kill him.”

Albert closed his eyes. At least he hadn’t done it on purpose. And thank god Spot had seen it and was able to rescue him. Race couldn’t swim. Albert didn't want to imagine him floundering around in the water, hoping to be rescued.

“Thank you, for pulling him out,” Albert said gratefully. “I don't know what I would do without him.”

“Well, he ain’t off the hook yet,” Spot said. “He was only in the water for maybe 3 minutes tops but he was unconscious when I pulled him out. Still breathing, though. Whacked him on the back several times until he woke up and started coughing. He passed out again on the way back to the lodge. And then, of course, it started to snow on top of that. Poor kid was so cold he wasn’t even shivering anymore. Luckily, I’ve dealt with this kinda situation before so I knew what to do, but if he doesn’t wake up real soon I ain’t too sure if he’s gonna make it.”

Albert looked down at Race’s face, which was blurring slightly due to the tears in his eyes. “Has he woken up at all?”

Spot made a face. “Twice, just for a few seconds. Both times he seemed generally dazed and asked multiple times where he was and what had happened. He didn't really seem to recognize me. I think the cold messed with his brain a little.”

Albert tried not to cry as he stared at Race, looking utterly helpless and small under his mountain of blankets. What would happen if he didn't make it? How would he keep going?

“Did you bring clothes for him?” Spot asked, noting the paper bag Albert was carrying. 

Albert nodded, pulling the bag off and placing it on the bed. Inside JoJo had put Race’s thickest undershirt, a pair of knit pants that he was fairly certain belonged to Finch, his own thick flannel shirt and four pairs of mismatched socks. Underneath that there was Race’s quilt from his bed at the lodge - one of the few possessions he had left from the time before he was a newsie - his deck of cards and one of his cigars. Albert smiled, leaving the cards and the cigar in the bag for when - if - Race woke up.

Spot gently removed the blankets from Race and sat him up gingerly, using his shoulder to support Race’s head which had lolled to the side. He removed the threadbare shirt and pants that Race had been wearing with ease, careful not to move his arms and legs too much to prevent any more heat loss. “Hand me that flannel, will ya?” 

Albert wordlessly handed Spot JoJo’s flannel shirt and watched as he slipped it over Race’s slightly red skin, buttoning it up carefully.

“I’m gonna need your help with the pants, okay?” 

Albert nodded, gently lifting Race’s legs one at a time and slipping them into the legs of Finch’s pants, wincing when his hand touched Race’s ice cold skin. Then, as per Spot’s instruction, he covered Race’s bare feet with two pairs of socks and his hands, which were red and cracked from the cold and selling outside, with the other two pairs.

Spot laid Race back down with obvious care before pulling the two blankets back over him. Albert placed Race’s blanket from the lodge on top.

Spot hopped off the bed. “I’m going to give you two some time together. I’ll be just upstairs cleaning up if you need me.”

“Thanks, Spot,” Albert whispered.

“You should probably get under the blankets with him, ya know, warm him back up using your body heat. That’s what I was doing before ya got here, seems to be helping, especially skin to skin,” Spot said. “Just don't rub him too hard or move him too much, an make sure the fire doesn't go out. An come get me if he really wakes up, still need ta get somethin warm in him.”

Albert nodded, unbuttoning his own flannel shirt and removing his undershirt as Spot climbed upstairs. Once under the covers, Albert undid the buttons on Race’s shirt and gently pressed his warm chest to Race’s freezing one, winding one arm around his upper back and using the other to carefully press Race’s head into his shoulder.

“What am I gonna do with you Tonio?” Albert sighed, pressing a gentle kiss to Race’s temple. “You can’t scare me like this.” Silent tears fell onto Race’s shoulder.

After about 10 minutes, Albert heard a faint moan escape Race’s lips. His stomach flipped. Maybe Race would be okay. “Shhhh,” he whispered soothingly. “You’re okay.”

Race let out another slightly louder moan and tensed under Albert’s soft hold. “Don't worry, baby, I’m not gonna hurt you,” Albert reminded him.

Race pulled back from Albert slightly, a shiver rippling throughout his thin body as he cracked his uncharacteristically dull blue eyes open. Albert was so relieved to see the eyes that he had fallen in love with that he almost cried in relief. Race, however, looked confused.

“Who’re you?” He slurred quietly, trying to wiggle out of Alberts loose grip. “Where’m I? Wha’ ‘append?”

Albert vaguely remembered Spot saying something about Race having trouble remembering things. A few tears dripped from his eyes. Was this going to be permanent? “It’s me, Race,” Albert said gently. “You know me.”

“I do?” Race tried to move further from Albert.

“Yes, yes you do, you just don't remember me right now,” Albert mumbled. “An stop moving, you’re really weak and I don't need you hurting yourself right now.”

“Bu’ I don’ know you,” Race said again, his voice barely a whisper.

“Shhhh, yes you do Tonio, just think, use that brain of yours,” Albert murmured, placing a hand on Race’s forehead. Still cold, but not nearly as bad as before. Albert began to gently stroke Race’s cheek, which he usually did to calm Race’s nerves and ground him. 

At his touch, recognition flashed across Race’s face and he smiled slightly. “Albie?”

“Yes, baby, its me. See? I knew you could do it.” Albert gently pulled Race back into his chest. “You’re safe. You fell off the Brooklyn bridge, nearly drowned. Spot brought you back to the Brooklyn Lodging House.”

“Spo’?” Race mumbled into Albert’s neck.

“Yes, Spot Conlon, your friend. He’s the king of Brooklyn.” It was a little worrying that Race was this disoriented, but at least he was awake and talking. 

“‘M friends wit’ th’ king o’ Brooklyn?” Race giggled weakly. 

“Yes,” Albert soothed. “He’s just upstairs. Very worried about you, just like me.” Race made a pleased noise. “How are you feeling baby?”

“Cold,” Race whispered, “an’ tired.”

“Think you can stay awake a little longer for me?” Albert asked. 

“Think so,” Race mumbled.

“Good, cause-” Albert was cut off by Spot creaking down the stairs. 

“I heard voices,” Spot called softly. “Is he awake?”

“Yeah,” Albert responded. 

Race curled further into Albert’s chest. “Who’s tha’?”

“Shhh, it’s just Spot,” Albert reassured him. Then he turned to Spot. “He doesn’t remember you.”

Spot furrowed his eyebrows. “That’s not good. Does he know who you are?”

Albert nodded slowly. “Took him a few minutes, though.”

Spot lay down on Race’s other side and Race pressed closer to Albert, whining slightly. “Hey, Tonio, it’s okay, it’s just Spot. He’s not gonna hurt you.”

“Ar’ya sure?” Race slurred, moving his head to look up at Albert. His blue eyes looked scared. 

“I’m sure,” Albert reassured him, releasing his hold on him slightly so he could look at Spot. 

“Hey there Racer,” Spot said softly. “Glad you’re doing better.”

“Albie says yer Spo’.” Race looked up at Spot with confusion. 

“I am,” Spot smirked. “How’re you feeling?”

Race groaned. “Why does e’ryon’ care ‘bout how ‘m feelin’? ‘M fine, ‘m jus’ cold ‘nd tired.”

“Race, you fell off the Brooklyn bridge, of course we’re worried about you,” Spot sighed. Even in his weakened, semi conscious state, Race still managed to act like he was fine. “Think you’ll be able to hold down some liquid for me? That should help warm you up.” 

“How d’ I know y’ain’t tryna poison me?” Race scowled. 

“Race, I would never,” Spot assured him, “you know that.”

“No, I don’,” Race countered. “I don’ even know you.”

Spot sighed. “Yes you do, Racer. You just don’t remember.”

“Pro’e ‘t.”

Albert let out a laugh. At least they knew Race was at least somewhat okay since he was acting like his usual self.

“Well, remember your first day of sellin at the Sheepshead?” Spot asked. “I nearly decked ya for sellin on Brooklyn turf and ya had the nerve to curse me out.”

Race screwed up his face in concentration. “...no?”

“Yer such an idiot,” Spot sighed lightly slapping Race on the head. Albert readied himself to comfort Race. He knew that Spot did that to him all the time, but surely Race wouldn’t react well to a stranger hitting him. 

Instead of curling away from Spot though, Race began to smile. “Spottie?”

Spot let out a groan. “Oh so you remember that I hit ya every time ya do somethin stupid, but not when we first met?” He said with fake annoyance. “You cuddle with your boyfriend, I’m gonna get ya somethin warm to drink.”

Race fell back into Albert’s chest. “I r’memba Spo’ now.”

“I’m glad,” Albert kissed his forehead lightly. Still cold. He ignored the sinking feeling in his stomach. If Race didn’t warm up soon, he might not make it through the night. “You feeling any warmer?”

“Lil’ bi’,” Race’s eyelids were drooping, which Albert knew wasn’t a good sign. “Can I take a na’?”

“Not yet,” Albert mumbled. “I need ya to stay awake until Spot gets back cause he’s gettin you somethin to drink.”

Race yawned. “‘m real t’rd Albie.”

“I know you’re tired, baby,” Albert cooed. “But I need you to stay awake for a little longer, okay? Why don’t you tell me how much you love me?”

“Tha’s e’sy.” Race was slurring his words so badly now that Albert could hardly understand him. “Ah lo’be ya so mu’h Albie. Yer th’ be’t. Ya came ‘ere allahth’ way fro’ ha’an jus’ fir me. An’ ya takin’ care uh me an’ bein’ real swee’ an’ gen’le an’ wo’ied ‘bout me. An’ yer ‘oldin’ me an’ tryna keep me ‘arm an’ safe an’ I jus’ lo’be ya so muc’, I wanna be witcha fireva’.”

Albert listened to Race ramble, gently rubbing small circles right below the brim of his hat. “Forever now, huh? Forever is a long time.”

Race pulled away and gave Albert a warm smile. “Not w’en ‘m wit you.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> race is a stupid idiot (but we all knew that)
> 
> and theres Unnecessary Carrying in this chapter (sorry mikey)

Race was definitely better than he had been. Albert, with some help from Spot, had managed to warm him back up entirely and his faulty memory had disappeared. There was a rough patch where they were convinced he wasn’t going to make it when one night it had started blizzarding and the fire had gone out. But Race was nothing if not a fighter and he had miraculously pulled through. 

Despite having recovered from the hypothermia incident quite well, the near drowning had definitely taken a toll on him. He was still incredibly weak and constantly tired. He could barely stand up on his own yet. He was determined to walk back to Manhattan by himself when the time came - as per Jacks condition - but right now that seemed a long way off. 

In the meantime, Albert and Spot had made a deal with each other. Albert would sleep with Race overnight, then get up in the morning to sell the morning paper, grab lunch for the two of them, and come back to the Brooklyn lodging house. Spot would sit with Race in the morning, get some food into him, make sure he didn’t freeze or do anything stupid, and then when Albert came back he would go out to sell the evening paper. Between the two of them, they had managed to keep Race covered and out of trouble for all of the four days he had been in Brooklyn.

The morning of the fifth day, Albert detached himself from Races sleeping form, got dressed quietly as usual, planted a kiss on Races forehead and slipped out the door to go sell. He milled around the circulation gate with the Brooklyn Newsies for a while, waiting for them to put up the headline. 

He was just getting in line to buy papers when he heard Checks shout. 

“Hey! You ain’t supposed to be here!”

There was a muffled response. 

“Get back to the house before Al sees,” Checks said again. “That’s an order.”

Before Al sees? Wait, if she was saying that, that could only mean- 

“Race?!” Albert yelled pushing his way through the crowd of kids towards Checks’s voice.

Checks let out a loud sigh. “I don’t care that you ain’t Brooklyn. Yous here right now, and I’m in charge, and I don’t wanna get my ass whipped by Conlon and Dasilva if you die. Go back to the house.”

Albert finally pushed his way through to where Checks was standing. A few feet in front of her, Race was leaning heavily on a wagon. He was dressed haphazardly in his array of borrowed clothes from Manhattan, but had neglected to put on a jacket, despite the fact that there was snow on the ground. His skin was almost the color of the snow, save for the red on his cheeks, and his eyes were tired and lifeless. Albert wasn’t sure if he should yell at him or hold him. 

“Race!” He called again, running up to where he was leaning. 

Race buried his head in his shirt sleeve. “‘M not here.”

Albert rolled his eyes, already unbuttoning his own extra jacket and putting it around Races shoulders. “Tonio, what were you thinking?”

“I wanted to sell,” Race humphed. “An’ Spot was off doin king stuff, an’ I was bored so I came to find you.”

“You shouldn’t have done that.” Albert helped Race feed his arms through the sleeves of his coat. 

“I’m tireda livin’ offa you and Spot,” Race mumbled. “I can make my own money.”

“Tonio,” Albert sighed, “that’s real sweet of ya, but listen. You ain’t in the shape to be sellin yet. Ya can’t even stand up on your own, how da ya expect to be out all day?”

Race remained quiet. 

“Ya gotta stay back at the lodge an’ rest. That's the only way ya gonna get betta, and then we can go home to Hattan, okay?”

“Okay,” Race mumbled, his teeth already beginning to chatter. 

“Take him back, Al,” Checks said from behind them. “We don’t need him dying, Spots already gonna have his head as it is. I’ll cover for you.”

“Thanks,” Albert said, turning back to face Race. “I’m gonna have to carry you.”

Race whined in protest. 

“You’re in no shape to walk back, I don’t even know how you managed to get here by yourself,” Albert added, gently lifting Race into his arms had holding him tightly against his chest. The shock of Races cold skin was enough to make his stomach lurch and he hurried back to the lodge as quickly as possible.

“I’ was easy,” Race mumbled, his eyes half closed, “I jus’ thoughta seein’ you.”

Albert couldn’t help but smile. “That’s real sweet, Tonio.”

Race smiled slightly before letting his eyes fall closed, increasing the pit of worry in Albert’s stomach. 

“Babe, I need you to keep your eyes open for me, okay?” He said urgently, walking a little faster. “Just focus on my face. We’ll be back soon.”

“But ‘m tired Albie,” Race muttered, but Albert could see him fighting to keep his eyes open. 

“Well then you shouldnta tried to sell today,” Albert reasoned, letting out a sigh when he saw the lodging house up ahead. Spot was pacing back and forth outside, no doubt having realized that Race was missing. Upon seeing Albert hurrying toward him, he broke into a run.

Race buried his head in Albert’s chest. “Thas Spot, ain’t it?” 

“Sure is,” Albert said, just as Spot approached them. 

“Racetrack Higgins!” Spot yelled, falling into step beside Albert. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“‘M sorry, Spot,” Race mumbled. “I jus wanted to make me own money ‘steada takin’ yours an’ Albies.

Spot sighed. “Race, I don’t care how long we have to cover for you, all that matters is that you’re alive. And if ya keep doin’ stupid stuff like this, that might not be for very long.”

Race groaned slightly but said nothing in response. 

Spot turned to Albert. “Let’s get him inside so his sorry ass doesn’t freeze, again.”

Albert nodded and matched Spots fast pace as they entered the house.

Albert set race down on the bed and watched as he pulled off his boots before sighing and flooping backwards onto the bed. Albert laughed and walked over to the fireplace, giving the fire a few pokes before joining Race in the bed. 

“You're such an idiot,” Albert said as Race undid the buttons on his - well, Albert’s - coat and threw it to the side. 

Race glared at him in response, which got a laugh out of Albert and he pulled Race into his lap, pulling Races quilt on top of the two of them. 

“What am I supposed to do with you?” Albert sighed to himself as he wrapped his arms around Race’s tiny chest. 

“Love me,” Race mumbled, already half asleep.

“Couldn’t love you more even if I tried,” Albert whispered, brushing back Races hair and kissing his cold forehead.

“Well if ya love me so much, ya could let me go back to Hattan,” Race tried again.

“No can do,” this time it was Spot that responded to Race, walking into the room with a mug of what Albert assumed was hot water since they didn’t have much else. “Jack said you ain’t goin back until ya can walk across the bridge yourself.”

Race groaned, but accepted the mug from Spot and took a tentative sip. “Thas hot,” he said, making a face when the water burned his tongue.

Spot rolled his eyes. “No duh it’s hot. An I expect ya t’ drink all of it.”

Race made direct eye contact with Spot before taking a huge gulp. It was clearly meant to look threatening, but he ended up dissolving into a fit of coughing. Albert whacked him on the back a few times before his coughs subsided.

“Go on and sell,” Albert said to Spot as Race took a significantly smaller sip of water. “I can take care o’ him.”

Spot nodded and pulled on his jacket and grabbed his bag. “I’ll be back around lunch,” he called before pulling the door shut behind him.

Race, now finished with his water, lay back against Albert’s chest and pulled the blanket up to his chin.

“You okay babe?” Albert asked pulling Race closer to his chest. 

“Yeah,” Race muttered sleepily, “‘m jus’ tired.”

“You can sleep if you want,” Albert said gently. “I ain’t going nowhere.”

Race smiled, looking up at his boyfriend. “Tell me a story?”

Albert grinned as he began to run a soothing hand through Races hair. Often when Race couldn't sleep, he would ask Albert to tell him a story. 

“Well, once upon a time, there was a boy named Albert who loved Race very very much….”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cuties
> 
> if enough people invade my tumblr ask box requesting more i may be tempted to revive this series...
> 
> comments and kudos are always appreciated, find me on tumblr -> @/suddenly-im-respecsable

**Author's Note:**

> theyre soft kids.
> 
> comments and kudos are always appreciated! come find me on tumblr -> @/suddenly-im-respecsable


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